


Remember me

by numot94 (futureplans)



Series: Twitter Drabble Giveaways [2]
Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-17 19:52:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18971917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futureplans/pseuds/numot94
Summary: Dear Joohyun,It’s Seungwan. Remember me? I sure hope you do, or this will be very embarrassing. Maybe it’s a good thing I’m only writing a letter and not popping up at your doorstep or something. Especially if you’ve moved.





	Remember me

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble based on the winning prompt for the Second Drabble Giveaway I held on Twitter (https://twitter.com/squirrel891/status/1125867768442527744): A wenrene story inspired by the song Remember Me by UMI

Dear Joohyun,

 

It’s Seungwan. Remember me? I sure hope you do, or this will be very embarrassing. Maybe it’s a good thing I’m only writing a letter and not popping up at your doorstep or something. Especially if you’ve moved.

Anyway, I was cleaning up some really old stuff, things I haven’t touched in ages, and I found the birthday present I got for you before we broke up. I never gave it to you after all and I guess at the time I just put it away where I wouldn’t have to think about it. There was a letter with it and that got me thinking of writing to you. That old letter isn’t right for us anymore, but I could write a new one, for the us that we are now. Or… the us that we aren’t anymore, I suppose.

I felt so self-conscious reading my old letter. I lay in bed and kicked my legs to try to push away the jolts of embarrassment. Was that really who I was? Was that really how it felt? At the time, it seemed so natural, so reasonable, but reading it now, it feels almost unreal. Like the tritest, most textbook love story.

I hope you don’t take this the wrong way. I feel like I’m explaining it all wrong. The love we had is something I hold so dear, something I will always carry with me. It’s just that, unexpectedly, I found myself outside of something and now I try to look in and everything seems shapeless, distorted. I stare at the words on that page and I try to recall the feelings behind them, but all I have are the words and the memory of what I used to feel.

I’m getting sidetracked. I keep getting lost in things I can’t explain, all these vague, nebulous thoughts that take over my mind. I should just throw this page away and start again, but my bedroom floor is already littered with little crumpled balls and I’m running out of paper. And I’m running out of courage. So I’ll try to power through the distractions and hope that you’ll be able to find the guiding line. You were always good at finding what mattered in the middle of all the mess that I made of things.

It’s pouring outside. All grey and washed out like an old movie. I haven’t seen the sky this dark since that time we went running through the rain and got absolutely drenched and I caught that terrible cold. Or was it you? It doesn’t really matter; we both caught our share of colds. We kissed in the rain so often that I’m surprised we’re both still alive.

I never worried about that, though. It all felt so right when I kissed you that I could barely feel the rain, not even when it ran down my hair and made my shirt stick to my skin. We’d run home, shivering, teeth chattering, and I still barely felt it. Not when your hand was in mine.

Maybe I’m just getting old. Worrying about being out in the rain too long. Daydreaming about the past. But when I look out the window, there’s nobody there. Just the rain falling, endless rain, and nobody to defy it. What if we were the last great love? What if now it will all be just pragmatism and waiting for dry weather before stepping out?

Sorry. I’m losing track of my thoughts again. The problem is that I don’t really know why I’m writing you. I know that I want to and I feel like I should, but I don’t know why. What am I even trying to say?

Maybe I really should crumple this and start over.

But I won’t. All this waste of paper must be bad for the environment.

That was a joke. You’d probably catch it, but sitting here, putting pen to paper, everything feels much more formal and serious. It’s like I’m writing up some important document. Jokes feel a little out of place, so I thought I’d point it out, just in case.

Oh, look at me rambling on for so long and I didn’t even think to ask about you. I guess I don’t really expect an answer, so it didn’t cross my mind to ask questions.

But I do have questions. I’m curious, at least.

Did you meet someone? Is that okay to ask? It doesn’t come from a place of jealousy, I promise. I was just wondering. If you did, I hope they make you laugh. The kissing in the rain isn’t mandatory, but I couldn’t stand to think of you with someone that doesn’t make you laugh. And it still isn’t jealousy, please believe me. It’s just that you can be such a serious person. You’ll carry the whole weight of the world on your shoulders, if they’ll let you. But when you laugh, it’s like it fades away, at least for a bit. Then it’s just you, looking as young as you are, as free as you should be.

But they probably do make you laugh. You always had good taste, so you wouldn’t settle for anything less.

It’s still raining, but it eased a bit. I’m keeping an eye on the sky, just in case the sun peeks out. We might even get a rainbow.

Do you want to know a secret? I wasn’t just cleaning up old stuff. I’m actually moving, so I was going through everything to pick what I bring with me and what I give away.

I’m not just changing apartments. I’m actually moving really far away.

It’s not that I have a solid job offer where I’m going. It’s more that I know I have nothing here. That I’ll have to give up and go work at a coffee shop forever or something. So I’m finally taking that leap and moving away.

We talked about it, so it shouldn’t catch you completely by surprise. Or, we talked about going together. Now the plan has changed a little, but the essence is the same. No more delaying it. It’s time to grow up and make my choice.

Actually, do you want to know another secret? I’m really fucking scared. I feel like anything could happen. Like there’s no safety net. No more space for messing up.

I kind of feel like that’s what growing up is. Scary. Having to do everything on your own and feeling so fucking scared all along.

I think that’s why I took an entire afternoon off from packing and wrote you this letter, again and again. I feel scared and small and helpless and if I think about it too much I just want to curl up and cry, so I wrote you a letter instead.

The old me that wrote that old letter, she was so sure of everything. The world was crazy and unstable, but she had you. That was all that mattered; everything would fall into place as long as you had each other. You’d keep trying until something stuck.

I don’t love you anymore. The realization was so earth-shattering, at first. It changed everything. But now, after so long, I read the words I wrote when I was so in love and it’s like the truth comes back and hits me with its full force again.

I don’t love you anymore. I don’t have that pillar anymore. That thing that I knew to be true and real beyond any doubt.

And I guess I wanted to write you this letter, because the only thing I know for sure now is that I loved you. And that’s a different kind of real, a bit hazier, a bit harder to cling to, but it’s the only solid thing I have left.

Is that selfish? Maybe it’s unfair that I’m writing you, now that you’ve probably moved on and made a whole new life. Maybe I shouldn’t bring all this up again just because I feel lost and unsure. You’re probably settled and confident and comfortable and the last thing you need is a reminder of the past with no offer of closure.

Just the same old Seungwan, needing your support. Needing you to tell her it will all be alright. Needing you, even when she has no claim to you anymore.

Maybe writing this was enough. Maybe I shouldn’t send it.

But I did love you. So much. So, thank you.


End file.
